Carwyn hid his face in Brigid’s neck to hide his smile.
“I love you too, Brigid. Carwyn has offered me some of his blood to help with my… condition. With his age, it’s probably the strongest.”
That seemed to snap Brigid more awake. “What the hell you need my mate’s blood for when yours is standing behind you?”
Carwyn’s mouth dropped open. “Well… ah, Brigid. Anne and Murphy—”
“Are mated. And they love each other. It’s bloody obvious.”
Anne felt Murphy tense again.
Brigid rubbed her eyes. “Bollocks. I’m too tired to be polite. Ignore me, Anne. Or don’t.” She held out her arm. “Here now, you’re like my sister. Take mine. I won’t react well to you taking Carwyn’s. And taking mine won’t drive Murphy as crazy. We all know that if your amnis is weak, drinking my blood will be like putting your mouth on a lightning bolt. There, everyone happy?”
Murphy growled, but Carwyn stepped away from Brigid and held up a hand. “Here now, lad. Let’s leave them. I’ve a few ideas about the meeting tomorrow night I wanted to run by you. Join me in Terry’s library?”
Anne felt Murphy shift behind her, then he bent down and dragged his cheek over hers. She felt the edge of one of his fangs scrape against her neck, and then he was gone. Carwyn followed him as Brigid sat on the couch again and pulled up her arm.
Anne sat down next to her, knowing that she needed the blood and just as reluctant about taking it. “Brigid, do you really think—”
“That he’s in love with you? As if it wasn’t obvious with that territorial display. I’ve never seen him possessive around a woman. Ever. This test you have running for him is almost cruel, Anne.”
Anne’s mouth dropped open. “I was going to ask about the lightning-bolt thing actually. And it’s not a test for him. It’s a test for myself.”
“Neither of you need to be tested.”
She tried to remain calm. “I realize that Patrick is your friend, but I’m afraid you weren’t there when we ended our relationship. It wasn’t pleasant. If you were there, you’d understand my reservations.”
“Everyone fights, Anne.”
“Nearly thirty years after we separated, he drove out to Galway in one of his fancy motorcars, accompanied by three human women who were fawning all over him, and showed up at my house without warning while I was hosting a dinner party. Then he proceeded to ask me why he was forced to invite humans to his bed when he had a mate who should be ‘seeing to his needs.’”
Brigid’s mouth dropped. “Okay, that’s bad.”
“Then he accused me of leaving him for one of my dinner guests. A guest who happened to be married. I had met his new wife that same evening.”
Brigid winced. “Murphy created a scene. He never does that. He hates scenes with a passion.”
“I suspect he does now. But at that time? He could be a proper bastard, Brigid. I’m glad to say he’s grown, but he was horrid to me. To my sister. To my friends. You’re welcome to ask Josie if you like. She was the one who finally put a stop to it. Tom is the one who knocked sense into him.”
Brigid grumbled, “I think I want to change my vote.”
“Don’t judge him for who he was seventy years ago,” Anne said. “In his defense, the war was an awful time for everyone. And he has changed. I can see that. He tried to show me before, but I wasn’t willing to listen.”
“Are you ready to take his blood?”
“No. I don’t want it to be because of my health.”
Brigid held out her arm. “Then we should do this.”
“I don’t want to have to take your blood either.”
“So bloody independent—no pun intended.” Brigid rubbed her eyes. “How many times did you have to help me my first year? It’s not like you never shoved a wrist in my face to keep me from biting a human. Let someone else help you for a change.”
“Brigid…” Anne closed her eyes and fingered the remnants of her stockings where they were torn at the thighs. “I feel like such a ninny.”
“You are one, but mostly about Murphy.”
“Will you stop?”
“You said yourself that he’s changed.”
“And you think he’s possessive now?” Anne shook her head. “You didn’t know him before. I have a life. Is it so hard to understand that I don’t want to lose myself again?”
“Why not?” Brigid asked. “Look at Carwyn. You think I don’t feel lost in that crazy man sometimes? His love is… enormous. Baffling. I feel like he takes over every part of me.” Brigid’s smile was halting. “But by some miracle, he’d tell you the same thing. That’s why it works.”
“And if you lost it?” Anne pulled her legs up to her chest. “Have you ever asked yourself what you’d do?”
“I have lost love,” Brigid said. “You know that more than anyone. I know the worst that can happen, because it killed me. But if I spent every moment of eternity wondering about what might happen, I’d meet the dawn tomorrow. There are no guarantees. Not even from those who love you the most.”
“Patrick and I—”
“One hundred years, Anne. You separated one hundred years ago, and you’ve found your way back to each other. Grab on to happiness when it’s given to you and fight for it.”